La aventura asturiana, parte 1º :: Oviedo & Cangas de Onís

I am back from the Asturian adventure, three days in La España Verde, the most majestic and inspiring and delicious part of Spain. Definitely not the stereotypical flamenco-dancing, bull fighting, sangria-drinking Spain -- it's the place people don't really know too much about but it always a huge surprise when they realize that it is still Spain. I was disappointed when first applying for study abroad that the farthest north program was in Alcalá (which is not northern at all), as I wanted to study in La España Verde (Galicia, Asturias, Cantabria, y País Vasco). I was reminded why I wanted to in the first place this weekend. Asturias and Cantabria...well, you'll see. I'll relate the weekend in four parts (one post for each day and a final Epicurean Diary España Verde edition wherein I recount my amazing meals and run in with absinthe).

This whole trip started Friday morning at 8a.m. sharp in la Plaza de Cervantes, where all twelve of us (Blen was "sick"), along with Fausto and Cristina hopped onto our unnecessarily large autobús with Silva, our driver, and headed out towards the north country, green Spain, the wonderful land of Los Picos y el mar Cantábrico. The seven hour or so trip took us through los Picos as we were heading into Asturias. The typical boring landscape of Castilla transformed into a vibrant, mountainous, and green region filled with plenty of trees, deep valleys, and small lakes. Spotted along the route were tiny villages, sometimes consisting of no more than 30 houses or so. What fascinated me most about these places is how no two houses nor building looked alike nor were there any advertisements on any of the buildings or bars. No recognizable stores, no chains of any kind. I was in love. I couldn't help but think that if this was in the States everyone would have the same model home, painted white with a perfect, tiny square back yard, and down the block would be a Wal-Mart or McDonalds. 

The bus ride consisted mostly of everyone else sleeping except for me and a few other people at random times. We occupied ourselves by eating our bocadillos and staring out the windows in awe. As much as I can't stand bus rides, I actually enjoyed this one since I was with so many good friends. I was almost sad when we had to get off because we arrived in Oviedo...then I remembered that I was in Oviedo and was about to have a much greater time in Asturias.

We didn't spend much time in Oviedo, three hours in the town, and then another hour and a half up on a hillside over looking the town. There was this big cathedral there, which we spent far too much time in. I don't care for places that a) don't allow photographs and b) have pictures of artifacts hanging up on the walls instead of the actual artifacts themselves. Seriously. They had photos of these gilded crosses and shrouds that were allegedly supposed to cover Jesus when they took him off the Cross...but they didn't have the actual shrouds. Just the photos of them, all faded hanging in frames. Very odd. 

The rest of Oviedo was pretty amazing though. It is a very large city but definitely doesn't feel like it. It's modern, full of wonderful architecture and statues everywhere (apparently it's the city with the most statues in the world or something -- and the only one with a statue of an ass...wait for the photos). And I mean statues everywhere. We couldn't walk a city block without seeing a few. There was even one of Woody Allen (which I got pretty excited about). Oviedo has such a small town feel, the people were nice, it smelled normal (for a European town this is rare), and there was an entire section of town where they just had a fish market, a bunch of bakeries, butcher shops, and cheese stores. Pretty sure I was in love and wanted to move upstairs of one of these shops immediately. Asturias and Cantabria are famous throughout Spain and Europe for their cows. It felt like I was back in Wisconsin. All the tourist shops had all these cow paraphernalia, stuffed cows, cow mugs, cow hats, cow t-shirts... I was quite content. 

Even more to remind me of Wisconsin? Yes. In the large park in the center of Oviedo, besides having wild turkeys (already thinking about Thanksgiving, although you don't eat these ones I'm told), they had thousands of chestnuts lining the paths. Unfortunately the leaves hadn't started changing yet or else I would never have left the place. 

We headed up a mountain, up a cow trail, on foot. Passed some old farm houses and also some farmers walking their cattle up the path. We didn't go all the way up but we went pretty far to look at two old churches/temples of which we didn't even go in...not that I would have been too enthused. I can see the complaint people give often about how they hate sighting in Europe because all it is is "Oh, there's another church. And there's a cathedral. And there's a temple." It's true. Now, I wouldn't mind that too much if these places we were visiting were architecturally amazing, and not dilapidated piles of rocks. Anything pre-Roman just doesn't do it for me. Show me gothic or Renaissance, then I'll be paying attention.

Nevertheless, I had a great time and I believe the crisp mountain air (and the somewhat cooler temperature) rejuvenated everyone's spirits and we were all quite happy and jubilant for Cangas de Onís and our dinner there at a sidrería.

Sidrería: a place where they specialize in sidra. Sidra: a carbonated alcoholic beverage similar to champagne that is produced in la España Verde. Smells like puke, tastes more like beer (with a 6% ABV too), yet really cleans out your teeth, almost like mouthwash. At first I wasn't too enthused about the taste, but it eventually grew on me. More about that during the Epicurean Diaries. And about the dinner, or at least the food served. The ten of us (Tommy and Alix opted instead to go eat pasta and pizza at a pizzaría instead of partake in our gorge-fest that was the dinner at el Conchu (the name of our lovely sidrería). And what a fest it was. We had the sidra in the middle (of course, you know, that you have to pour the sidra into the glass from on high), and nearly everyone got something different (save for me, Maya, and Kristine, who all got croquetas). We ate and laughed and generally were merry. We ended up trying each other's foods, sampling everything from the simple chicken breast to chorizo in sidra sauce to some crazy pork/turkey soup thing that Armani got.

What only added to the experience was the actually restaurant. We came in with a big group and were easily accommodated because they only had huge, long tables meant for big groups. There was only one table open, the place was jam packed with whole extended families and groups of friends eating and drinking. Everything about that place gave off such a cozy vibe. Felt like a north woods bar, plenty of woodwork and down to earth characters inhabited the place. The only thing that was out of place was the fact that the waiters took our orders on iPhones. A bit of modernity in the otherwise authentic Asturian sidrería. 

While others were content after this meal, I, as usual, was up for a night cap, a glass of wine at another local to get more of the flavor of the town. After rejecting the loud Irish pub (my veto), we found a quiet, stone-walled and wood beam-supported tavern for some red wine. We stood around a big wine cask and had a glass of the house wine, which was pretty good (as it always seems to be). It was heading towards midnight and they were closing. We were the last people in there and I loved how was we were heading out the two workers were sitting down to dinner. They had a bottle of wine, a basket of bread, and a large portion of freshly sliced jamón ibérico in front of them. It was cute, I was jealous (though still stuffed from dinner so I was more apathetic), and it made me feel all warm inside...and immediately want to move up to Asturias.

Probably the best dinner I've had at home, el botellón, and Asturias

Another Thursday, another botellón with our favorite Spanish friends. As always, it starts out a bit awkward, then as we liquor ourselves up, the conversation and jokes start flowing. T'was a good night, as always. Unfortunately this time I had to come home to get dinner and didn't get to stay out with mis amigos. I did spend a good three hours with them though. Tonight's theme drink: calimocho, which I realize will be the drink for the rest of these botellones. 

It's fun getting to know the Spanish. Fran has never been to Barcelona and wants to go with us when we do. Said he wishes he could go with us to Asturias this weekend. <-- Brings me to my next topic: I, and the rest of mis compañeros de CIEE are going to Asturias and Cantabria this weekend. For those unaware, Asturias and Cantabria are on the norther Atlantic coast of Spain. It's supposed to be cold, rain, and green. Basically, my ideal vacation spot. I'm sick of this cold at night and morning but scorching in the sun during the day Alcalá climate. I'm so excited to finally be covered in sweaters and sweatshirts and jackets and scarves and stuck in the rain all day. It'll remind me in the very least a bit of Wisconsin and the beautiful autumn that I'm sure you are all enjoying right now. Since I'll be in Asturias this weekend though I'll be incomunicado all weekend unless I steal a friend's laptop and internet or else go to an internet café (unlikely). So, you'll all be updated on Monday night with a nice long blog post and plenty of photos, so don't worry. Until then, I'll be off having a great weekend, so don't worry about me.

One last bit of news. Perhaps it was the calimocho from the botellón but tonight's dinner was probably the best one I've had so far at home in Spain. It was simple. First: no soup. White (olive oil) rice with a fried egg (which I placed on top of the rice). Even better, I had good (read: not styrofoam) bread. Even better still, spicy chorizo and, get this, Havarti cheese. I went to Carrefour earlier today to get meat and cheese for my bocadillo for the trip. I picked up jamón serrano and Havarti slices. I made the boca at dinner and ate the leftovers. It was delicious. So let's recap: white rice, fried eggs, good bread, spicy chorizo, Havarti, and jamón serrano. Definitely the best dinner I've had at host family's house since I've arrived. 

Jalapeños

As I sit here now, after dinner, my stomach is tearing itself apart. I can only imagine tomorrow's trip to the bathroom being a (quite literal) shit storm. 

I have been craving jalapeños ever since I got here. First night, we went to this Mexican restaurant called "Burrito." They didn't even have spicy food, I was fearing that jalapeños didn't exist in Spain (couldn't find them at Carrefour, my favorite close by super market). However, the other day after our visit to Carrefour, Marisa went to El Corte Inglés and found some jalapeños at Hipercor and, remembering how much I wanted some, bought a jar and gave them to me. For that, I am eternally grateful. The first spicy thing I've had since I left for Spain. I knew coming here I wouldn't be having any spicy food in Spain, so I guess I subconsciously ate as much spicy food as I could the weeks beforehand. Any time I'd got anywhere, I'd get whatever sounded hot and detrimental to my intestines. I was in the garden of earthly delights. 

And now, four weeks of not having spicy food, I'm presented with a jar of jalapeños and nothing really to put them on, so I had to be creative. For lunch, I just ate them raw, straight out of the jar. It was wonderful. My mouth burned a bit, and I even had to drink some water. Oh, the sensations were coming back to me, the fond flavor of food with a bite. My host mother tried the very corner of one (after just smelling the jar she exclaimed that she could smell the hotness), and I feared I was going to have to call the hospital. Now, living her whole life in Spain, without ever hearing of the word "jalapeño," I can understand her reaction. I'm just sad that she doesn't appreciate the wonder of jalapeños like I do. She immediately ran to the garbage to spit out the piece of pepper and I had to hand her my glass of water in fear of her having a heart attack. She downed the whole glass, something that usually takes her the whole meal. Her mouth was still burning afterwards for quite some time. To help with the mental image, for those that were around: think of the first time Mitch tried a jalapeños..yeah, it was kinda like that. At least she tried it. 

For dinner I actually tried mixing jalapeños with Spanish food. Host mother specifically made rice tonight because the previous night I was that jalapeños would go good with rice (I couldn't think of any other food we've had here that would--soup just doesn't cut it). Of course it was just plain white rice doused in olive oil, but I added some jalapeños and it turned out pretty good. Now if only they had sour cream lying around the house, we'd be getting somewhere. Mamá also had a plate of tortilla sitting out, and my least favorite bar bread (the styrofoam kind). Regardless, I quickly made a bocadillo and tossed some jalapeños on top. Now that was delicious. I don't see why this bocadillo isn't more widely available here, all the Americans and Mexicans would eat it, and the Spaniards would learn to love it.

Perhaps then instead of giving us nasty green olives to nibble on while having a drink, the waitstaff would bring out a plate of jalapeños. I can only hope...

Good news on the jamón front: Mamá told me that I can make the two bocadillos for the Asturias trip myself. One of tortilla and the other of whatever I want. She recommended chorizo. I'm going to Carrefour tomorrow and getting the best jamón ibérico and queso I can find. I was thinking of adding jalapeños but I don't want to ruin my first true jamón y queso bocadillo in Spain. My mouth is watering just thinking about it now. I can't wait for Friday when I devour this boca. 

Rain! And Storms! And new pants!

Nothing special these past few days, save for:

El primer botellón. This is where the parents should skip to the next paragraph or two. Or not. So, the Spanish word for bottle is botella. Whenever you take a Spanish word and add -on, it makes it bigger, stronger, better. So think of botellón as a big, strong bottle -- full of booze. Botellones are a tradition and favorite pasttime of Spanish youth. The idea is simple: bars are very expensive, so why not get a bunch of booze cheap at the store and just hang out with friends in a park, drinking and talking all night? Then maybe heading out to a bar for a night cap or food. The laws concerning drinking outside are very, very lax here. I've been told by my Spanish friends that they've been approached by police during botellones, but were simply told to throw away their trash afterwards. Very lax. Think of it as our American house party, yet outside and without beer pong (qué horror!). You see, Spanish youth end up living with their parents until they are married, more or less. You can find some 28 year olds still living in their parents houses, mostly because of the lack of money and strong family ties (plus point--there aren't really part time jobs for college aged Spanish--they just go to school and have fun). However, when living with their parents, Spanish kids aren't really allowed to invite many more people over than just their girlfriend or best friend, much less a whole house full of drunkards. So they go outside to drink. Good idea, no? Just try that in the States anywhere that isn't Las Vegas or a festival.

Thursday night we had our first botellón with our new Spanish friends. It was great. We went to the university's courtyard and were presented with a wide selection of fun things to drink. Rum, black cherry vodka, regular vodka, Don Simón red wine (it's this boxed stuff that would kick Franzia's ass any day), Mahou (eww), plus the standard mixers: Coke and Fanta limón. Be warned: the black vodka and Fanta limón, while delicious, turns your teeth black-- not too attractive, but it was getting dark out so I don't think anyone mattered too much. This was a great opportunity for me and mis compañeros de los Estados Unidos para charlar y conocer mejor los españoles. We chatted, joked, laughed, peed in the alley way: good times. Got to work on our Spanish, which obviously improved as the night went on. Our Spanish hosts say they've been having this botellón every Thursday for the past seven years. We have to leave at 8 am on Friday morning for Asturias this week. You bet we'll be partaking in round two for us Americans.

Pues, Friday and Saturday weren't too exciting. Plenty of chilling around Alcalá. I believe I already spoke of the tapas fair here in Plaza Cervantes, which entertained me for a good portion of the night. Saturday night I spent mostly at home reading Reinaldo Arenas' autobiography "Antes que anochezca." Some of you may have seen the film version starring Javier Bardem (in English "Before Night Falls"). It's a very...interesting book. Very easy read for Spanish students as there aren't too many words you need to be running to the dictionary to look up. You'll definitely learn some new ones, mostly through context. Backstory: Reinaldo Arenas was a homosexual poet/author growing up just in time for the Castro revolution in Cuba. He grew up en el campo and at one point joined the militia to oust Batista. However, once Castro took over, he started persecuting homosexuals--and Arenas started to get in trouble. I'm only about half way through right now, so far, so good -- and strange at times (if you read it, you'll see what I'm talking about). Highly recommend it though (even more so in Spanish, of course). 

I did find a new cool bar Saturday night (after my marathon reading session, of course--study first, drink later). It has a wonderful terrace seating inside it's own courtyard. I'd liken it to Porta Bella in Madison (at least in style of terrace, not food). The drinks, as seems to be typical of the Spanish, were half and halfs -- for only 4.20€ -- just about the cheapest you can find in town without going to a botellón (5€ for a cup -- reminds me of most Madison parties). Still not sure how to properly order a rum and Coke here though. I've ordered it the only three ways I know and each time I'm met with weird stares. Ron y cola...blank stares and "¿Qué?" Cuba libre...same thing, no one understands. I was told by Maya to order by brand name (as once they figure out you want rum, they ask for what kind), so I ordered "Club Habana y cola" which was greeted with a disgruntled "¿QUÉ?" And it's not like I'm stupid and mispronouncing these words. I know how to speak at least enough Spanish to order a drink, and I've been told by multiple teachers my pronunciation is quite good. Maybe it's just that no one drink rum around here -- or else Spanish waitstaff just hate me. 

Sunday was Madrid time. Went to El Prado, which contrary to what we thought, was only free from 5pm onwards, not all day Sundays. Shame. Went in anyways. Saw Las Meninas, of course, and a host of others by Velazquez and Goya and those other famous Spanish painters. The painting that really stuck out for me and captured my attention most was by an "Early Netherlandish" painter called Hieronymus Bosch. It was called The Garden of Earthly Delights. Very fascinating, very detailed. I could spend hours looking at this three part painting. There are so many things going on and it seems to crazy that some guy back in the early 16th century dreamed this world up.

Spent some time in Retiro, then wandering around the crazy, convoluted streets of Madrid, hoping I'd get lost. Wanted to just explore and find something new and cool (or old and cool). I didn't, since the coolest thing was this bar at the very beginning of my trying-to-get-lost adventure. Casapueblo. At the beginning of Calle Leones near El Congreso and all those ritzy hotels in Madrid (save for the actual Ritz, which is near Atocha). Inside, old fashioned prohibition era decor. Loud (too loud) piano and jazz music playing. They had an old piano in back, in fact. Theater posters dating back to the early 20th century advertising plays being put on in none other than Alcalá de Henares. Giant wall full of liquor bottles. First time I've seen Kahlúa in Spain. Plenty of other rare stuff, including this one Cuban scotch. Not sure how good that would be. Marisa and I had a glass of red wine while admiring this beautiful wall. Our eyes searched for, and eventually found, the holy grail of I'm-in-Europe-and-it's-cool-to-drink-stuff-illegal-in-America booze: Absinthe. Or in Spanish, absenta. We didn't try as we are going to wait to bring more friends back to disfrutar. It has been encountered though (as numerous searches of grocery stores have returned negatives results). Will let you all know how that adventure ends up going when it happens.

And finally, yesterday I got some new pants. A pair of jeans. Figured my old ones were either too uncomfortable or too worn down. Got new ones, which I now refer to as "ass jeans" because they definitely show off my butt. The ladies love them though, so I'm not going to complain.

Epicurean Diaries Vol. 3

After quite the wait, here is the next installment. Lots of food and drink since the last one.

Chorizo picante

My first experience with chorizo here in Spain wasn't a pleasant one. Host mother pulled out this moldly looking slab of sausage one night for dinner. It was all dark and full of fat. She sliced me off a piece--I did not enjoy it. However, I was talking one night about how much I love spicy food and how there is no spicy food in Spain. She mentioned some spicy chorizo that Jesús likes. So I had some, uncooked, but still delicious. She said it was "muy picante." Not entirely true but I guess for a Spaniard who has never heard of a jalapeño before, that would be true. It was good chorizo though, and it did have a bit of a bite to it (though not quite like Mexican chorizo). I had it a few days later cooked, was much better still. 

Vino tinto

I was going to have separate categories for all these different red wines I've been having, but then I realized that I'm not skilled enough, if you will, at discerning the differences and subtleties of wines. I've ordered house wines (vino tinto de la casa) at a Korean BBQ in Madrid, restaurante Candela, and two others from there, plus house wine from El Espejo (if you remember from la noche en blanco). They were all good to great. And before this I was never a huge fan of wine in general. Either I've grown accustomed to the taste, or the wine really is just better here. And so cheap too. In the stores, as I've said, you can get a bottle from .79€ -- in most restaurants the tinto de la casa is going to be about 10€, and quite good. So..if you come to Spain, get red wine, and you won't be disappointed.

Korean BBQ

My friends Monica and Kristine took me out to a Korean BBQ in Madrid last week since they were missing Korean food and I've never had it before. Started off with fried dumplings, which I could not tell the difference between Korean and Chinese fried dumplings -- nevertheless, they were quite good, if unfortunately in small portions (only four tiny ones! Really need to find a Chinese buffet around here). The girls had this spicy soup called Kim Chi, I had a taste it was very good -- but you know me, I already get enough soup at home here, that I refrained from having any more. Main course was the actual BBQ ribs, called Kalbi. If you've never been to a Korean grill before...the grill is actually in the middle of the table and either you or the server cooks the food right there on the table. Monica and Kristine knew how so they prepared out meal. I'm not quite sure what the sauce was, but it was amazing. Plus, meat! How often do I get that here? I was quite excited. It was fun actually cooking your meat to your liking then just tossing it on your plate -- a kitchen so close is useful, especially since I was starving. So I filled up on white rice and Kalbi and the fine vino tinto de la casa. Quite the good dinner.

La merienda a la terraza de El Espejo

Merienda is usually a snake during midday, after lunch, but before dinner, in order to hold oneself over until dinner. I'm applying it here to our 2am snack and drink in Madrid during la noche en blanco. Or, as Rebeca put it "You know what this is right here? Fourth meal." We ordered a plate of jamón ibérico and manchego, along with bread. I got a glass of the house wine (as I've said, you can't go wrong here in Spain with red wine). Normally I hate manchego, it's so saltly and strong and just plain foul (I'm starting to think that that's just the manchego that host mother gets) -- but this manchego was much more mild and delicious. That, or I'm just getting used to manchego. A slice of bread, a slice of manchego, and the coup de grâce: jamón ibérico. The best ham you can get in the world. The only thing coming from a pig that I like. Familiar faces should know that I do not like ham nor pork chops nor bacon...however, when in Spain, ham is about the greatest thing I can eat. And this jamón ibérico was fantastic. Cut fresh off the (dead and cured) pig's leg, in tiny little strips, perfect for making tiny bocadillos with the cheese. These bocadillitos and the wine were a perfect combination and an excellent mid-night snack to refuel our energy before we continued on for another four hours.

Camembert

For a while, I just referred to this as the "French cheese" because I didn't know how to pronounce it. As noted before, I was having troubles adjusting to manchego and even the Wisconsin cheddar I brought over (I don't like yellow cheddars...I know, from Wisconsin and don't like cheddar!), so I was determined to find an alternative cheese because I was going through cheese withdrawals (unfortunately they don't have pepper jack here...I may die). Searching through Carrefour for a suitable cheese, I found only two saving graces: Brie and Camembert. I wanted to eat it immediately, and only Camembert came in individually wrapped chunks, so I picked that up. While the mold on the outside was a turn off at first, I have quickly adapted and am now in love with Camembert. It is what keeps me alive and not withering away due to lack of cheese. It's so rich, so creamy...I have a chunk for nearly every meal. Goes great on bread but I can just as easily tear into it by itself. Oh the French, saving me once again. 

Common Fig

Or, in Spanish, higo. A friend of the family rang the doorbell one day and Candela opened the door to reveal Juan, a fast talking and very impassioned Spaniard, friend of Candela's kids Estrella and Antonio. He was carrying grocery bags full of food--and shoes-- and started pouring stuff on the kitchen table (where we had just been eating at--Candela was quite quick to clear the table when she found out he was coming up, never have seen her so excited or so fast). He pulled out this green fruit and basically shoved one in my face, peeling the skin down like a banana, to reveal this half strawberry, half sea coral looking interior. I was intrigued, and shoved my face into the fruit. Oh so sweet. He mumbled that it was "yigo" or something, I didn't picked up what it really was called until a few days later, when I was devouring one I asked Candela and she spelled it out for me (wrong, but Google can help with that). Found out it was the common fig. Makes sense, now that I think about it they do kinda taste like Fig Newtons. I think that if el higo was an animal and not a fruit, I wouldn't eat it. The insides would look disgusting coming from an animal. Weird, I know. It's so delicious, so sweet. It's coated in this gooey sweetness that remind me of honey. So, it's like eating a coral strawberry covered in honey. 

That's all for this installment, expect another one next week. I'm going to be heading out tonight to eat for dinner and possibly again Sunday -- in Madrid. I'm thinking either Casa Botín (Hemingway's favorite) or else something Middle Eastern. Weird that now that I'm in Spain I'm eating at non Spanish restaurants that I could just as easily find in Madison or Milwaukee. 

Recuerdos

And I sat there in phonetics class today...drifting off since the material I had already learned and seemed quite easy (how hard is it to separate into syllables and find the accentuation?)...thinking, of Madison. How I miss those Tuesday afternoons, fresh off of Spanish 223 I'd pick up the latest Onion and sit in the Trilling lounge reading over it, amusing myself with a select few others who were just arrive back from class or waking up. Mitch and Ian were usually there, Jake every once in a while. We'd sit and chat and laugh, then head off to lunch. As I said then, and it's still true now, lunch was typically my favorite part of the day, and definitely so on Tuesdays. We'd gorge and sit around the Don's table or else in the atrium for what turned out to be hours on some occasions. I'd get a flavored coffee (and I'd be damned if it was Chocolate Raspberry), trying always to get Mitch to drink it. Then we'd head back up to the lounge after lunch, coffee in hand, and just chill for the afternoon--no one wanted to do homework, or head off to their next class (though luckily for me I was done for the day). Then after some time Jeanne and Kayla and Kyle and Amanda and others would filter in, lunch trays in hand, and plop themselves down and it'd be a blast. 

The lunches are much quieter, here. Usually it's me and abuela. Sometimes her granddaughter. The selection, of course, is not a plentiful. There is no choice, and I end up eating soup most days. There are no reubens, there are no Chicken-Os, no Cuban pork sandwiches, no rare-but-delicious breaded chicken sandwiches, no cheeseburgers, no Brew City fries, no made to order quesadillas nor never-ending pasta buffets nor gigantic burritos covered in far too much guacamole and sour cream, and definitely no dirt cake. There is soup, pinto beans, garbanzo beans, lentils, noodles (not quite what you'd think). And bread. Plenty of baguette style bread, which varies in quality from something quite amazing to what appears to be styrofoam masking itself as something edible. 

There is no lounge to relax and digest the meal in. No Irish Cream nor French Vanilla nor Kahlúa coffees (and I can tell you why there is an accent mark on the "u" now), straight black. There is café con leche, which varies widely depending on the café you frequent. I've found one solid cup of café con leche so far in Alcalá. The rest seem to be imposters, heating milk in the microwave and tossing in instant coffee, as los abuelos do in the morning, a taste so offensive that it could turn me off of café con leche altogether. Café solo (black coffee) is served strong and small. It more resembles espresso (café cortado) than coffee we're used to in the States. If I order a café solo anywhere, I get this tiny shot of Spanish coffee, which I don't mind the taste (remember I love dark and bitter coffees and beers), but it's so small and perks me up so little that I feel like I'm wasting the 1.20€ it costs. At least with leche you get a full cup. And yet there is no Cedarburg Coffee Roastry where the refills are free and you get to choose from 4 differently delicious brews. Only one, and refill is 1.20€. There is a Starbucks in town, I'm far too afraid to go in there though as doing so would feel like I'm giving up, quitting, not embracing the new culture here. Wasting, if you will, the opportunity to have fine Spanish coffees while I'm here. And yet I've still to find that fine Spanish coffee, perhaps there is a café hidden from us foreigners where the delicious coffee flows freely and cheaply. Where there are large cups filled with black coffee of all regions and flavors. Where there is the strong smell of roasted beans and the absence of any TV screen. 

So now when I go to a café, I rarely get coffee. I haven't had a cup in days. Strange, I know, considering my 3+ during the school year and summer. I don't know if I can survive like this, without large quantities of coffee. Sure, I don't need it to stay up (in fact I have trouble sleeping often), but there's definitely something missing. I end up, instead, sharing a bottle of wine with friends, often having upwards of 3 cups in an afternoon. It's enjoyable, and I've grown quite the tongue for red wine (there isn't a bad red wine I've had here yet), but it doesn't give me that kick, that je ne sais quoi (o mejor, en español, yo no sé qué) that a bold cup of coffee does.

I've already planned my first full day back (or at least the meals): 

Breakfast: Fried egg (over hard, of course...something that they don't do in Spain) sandwich, on an egg bagel from Bagels Forever. Coffee.

Lunch: Homemade reubens (as Cedarburg is severely lacking in establishments with quality reubens). Afterwards, hours upon hours of coffee at the Roastry.

Dinner: Gigantic burrito from Chipotle, or an otherwise very spicy meat and cheese combination with plenty of sour cream and guacamole (perhaps my special recipe spicy meatloaf). Afterwards, an evening at Silver Creek, outside on the beer garden, legally drinking quality beer.

Is it bad that I'm already pondering this? It's not like I hate Spain, not by any means, I suppose this is my slow, drawn out "cultural shock" period that everyone usually goes through their first few days. I didn't have that at first, and it's definitely not panic-inducing. It's just gradual, the things I realize that I really miss from time to time. It's my quest this year to find at least one place in Madrid that serves a reuben. 

Strawberry Fields Forever

Here is the awesome performance of Strawberry Fields Forever. Or part of it at least. Enjoy.

Máximo silencio

Here's the video of the light I was talking about. Set to Andrés Segovia's "Asturias - Leyenda Preludio." Enjoy. The Beatles song will be coming soon. And a new Epicurean Diaries.

La noche en blanco

A new Epicurean Adventures will be coming later, but for right now I must recount la noche en blanco, a very special night held once a year in Madrid (and various other European cities like Paris and Rome). Where to start? First: la noche en blanco is an all night festival honoring the full moon. All the museums are open free to the public til 7am and there are all these streets closed off to cars, full of hundreds of thousands of people and various public art and music performances. We spent the night walking around Madrid, in the cold, admiring quite the spectacle.

Arriving in Madrid at Atocha at 11:30p.m. we headed to la Reina Sofía first, where they were lighting a bunch of candles on the steps to the museum. We sat en terraza at a bar in the plaza, and after some time what appeared to be a nude man stood in the middle of the candles, motionless. As we approached, we discovered that people were pouring hot wax from the candles on him (and that he wasn't completely naked, he had a small jock strap on). La Reina Sofía is the museum of modern art here, and some girl gave a speech explaining her little piece of art.

We headed down El Paseo del Prado, which is normally like Lake Shore Dr in Chicago but was completely devoid of cars and full of people. First "exhibit" we ran into was a guy up on a platform in the middle of the street playing a violin. It was a beautiful song. Then he decided to whip out a saw. Yeah, like those wobbly ones you use to cut trees. He pulled out a saw and started playing it, quite awkwardly, but still very amusing.

Further down el Paseo, right outside the Velazquez entrance to El Prado was two vaudevillian men blowing gigantic bubbles over the crowd to the tune of classical music. It was cool but nothing to hold our interest too long. 

And then near la Plaza del Neptuno, one of my favorite exhibitions of the night. We approached, and I was not enthused about this guy singing some song in English with these weird, new age instrumentals. I'm like "What the heck, I'm in Madrid, where's the Spanish music?" He finished the song then said "Creo que vas a gustar esto." And I did. I forgot there are certain songs that are universal. The Beatles happen to have a whole catalogue full of them. He had four microphones and in each one he made a different vocal "track," if you will, to which he then started to loop these background vocals to make up the instrumentals of the song. Then he proceeded to sing, in perfect English, Strawberry Fields Forever. I was so enamored that at first I was just standing there in awe, it was so beautiful. Then I remembered I can take video with my camera, so I have a portion of the song captured on video, which I will post later.

We moved on, in the fountain of la Plaza de Neptuno (or Neptune, if you couldn't figure that out (or Poseidon)) were oversized rubber ducks. Just floating around. 

Did I mention there were hundreds of thousands of people there? The streets were jam packed with people (and coincidentally, trash). Los madrileños were smart and brought large bottles of booze and plenty of beer so they didn't have to go to bars to get drunk. Throngs of people were just walking around with booze all night then tossing it wherever they were when they were done. The streets were literally trashed by 3am.

This is the old post office building. Hard to tell, but those are lips that are "kissing" the building. They made loud puckering sounds and would kiss different parts of the building constantly. I have video that I will try to get up later. Crazy art students.

We headed to la Puerta de Alcalá. This was the first time I had seen it, after hearing that song all the time in Profe's class. It was illuminated intermittently and there was a huge line to walk underneath it. We decided not to wait to walk under an arch (though I don't think you can do that normally, so maybe we should have...) and instead headed to a bar to get some pinchos and drinks. El Espejo, the bar, was a nice terraza bar in the middle of the street that reminded me of the images I've seen of old Parisian bars. We had a plate of jamón ibérico and queso and bread, and I a copa of vino tinto. This was one of the other highlights of the night for me. The jamón was the best yet I've had in Spain (not saying much given what I had at the "Italian" restaurant). The cheese, which normally I can't stand Spanish cheese, was actually really good, especially with the jamón and bread. The wine was delicious as well. We were sitting in the middle of the street freezing in the wind but I was having a terrific time. Need to go back there.

From there the mission was Gran Vía, as there was plenty of be had there (or so we thought). By this time there were already cleaning crews outside leaf blowing and spraying the streets with water (why? I don't know). Didn't seem to be as many people out on Gran Vía at this time (was about 3am) so we headed into Zahara café for some wake me up caffeine. We sat around there, half asleep, half ready for the rest of the night, until the place closed at 4am. Down Gran Vía, we passed la Plaza de España and el Palacio Real on our way to "Máximo silencio," probably the best piece of art of the whole night. It was quite a walk through streets and parks full of the discarded bottles of alcohol and mixers from earlier botellones. We lost ourselves a bit in a dark street by el Puente de Segovia and a river. Ended up atop a hill looking at the most spectacular and sobering exhibition in Madrid. Ten thousand multicolored lights filled a field on the west side of Madrid. Alternating colors, below the full moon, the perfect night cap to la noche en blanco. It's really hard to describe just what it was like to be there, how it felt and the impact it had on me. Even the photos and videos I have don't really do it justice. Just trust me that it was something special and that I almost hate mentioning it because I'm sad that you all could not take part in it. However, I did manage to get some photos that try to give you a sense of what it was like, as well as some videos that I will try to get up later (along with the Strawberry Fields Forever video). 

 

Head here for the whole photo set.

What days we've had..

Wow.

That was a long two days past, and not a lick of time to recount it. Yet. Where to begin. Most logically, Thursday.

Thursday night the majority of us (save for only two people in our group!) went out to Ensanche for dinner at an "Italian" restaurant. Ensanche is a barrio of Alcalá that is quite far away from el centro...a good 20 minute or so bus ride. So one of our friends was dying for Italian food and saw this good place in Ensanche, so we loaded up in the bus and headed out. We get to this really ghetto looking place (really dark, full of graffiti and no one on the streets) called Ensanche. We wander around til we find out friends then head to this "Italian" restaurant. Okay, why do I keep putting Italian in quotes? Well...the only Italian thing about this place was that there was a sign board outside the bar/diner that had frozen pasta dishes on it. So much for sitting in low lighting drinking fine wine and overall eating food similar to Olive Garden than authentic Italian. Best part, they didn't even have their frozen pasta dishes. So it was frozen pizzas or sandwiches. I ended up getting a bocadillo de jamón serrano...probably the easiest sandwich to make, at least definitely from what everyone else ordered. And yet it came after the frozen pizzas and after the more "gourmet" sandwiches. Quite pissed. Although, I couldn't stop laughing at the hilarity of the whole situation. The whole premise. El porqué of why we were there in the first place. As one friend put it I have the worst luck in the world. I more or less agree. As she also stated later, asking how the dinner was, on a scale of 1-10, "The diner was a -5 but the experience was a 10." I completely agree. Everything about the meal was pretty high on the shit scale but the time we had more than made up for it. We had a better time than we would have had at a real Italian restaurant. The night was a success.

Madrid

Now this was a very exhaustive day as well. We left at 9am with 13 of us and the 3 remaining of us arrived back in Alcalá at 11pm. Our resident director led us on a tour of a small portion of Madrid for a while. We walked down el Paseo del Prado. Saw the outsides of: la Reina Sofia, el Prado, la Caixa Forum, el Congreso, el gobierno de Madrid, la Plaza de España, la Plaza Mayor, y la Puerta del Sol. It was a quick nearly running tour of the city. I loved how when we got to la Puerta del Sol, she told us to watch out for our bags because this was the most populated section of a city in the world for thieves to be (she didn't really back up this statement with data but we'll forgive her). And yet then she proceeded to stop our group in front of the government building, in the center of la Puerta del Sol and give us tourist information, clearly labeling us all as marks. Great job avoiding the thieves there...

Throughout this tour we stopped a few times for more than a minute to discuss and relax. With nothing but food on the mind I took out my bocadillo de tortilla that my host mother made for me. Her own mom's special recipe. It's so good. I got a bite into it before we had to get moving the first time. The next time we were all in awe at some statue (not sure why...believe it was Carlos III) so I grab my boca and just as I get it out of the foil...we move on and I have to pack it up. Finally we're sitting there watching some acrobats suspended high up above a plaza. I figure, perfect time to eat while everyone is taking photos. I get my boca out, unwrap the foil and I'm about to take a bite when we start moving again. So I quickly wrap it back up and throw it in the bag it came in (one of those long bags you get French bread in) and the bottom falls out and my boca hits the ground. Doesn't matter, it tastes so good and I was so hungry I ate it all later.

Ok, enough about food (although I got a whole other post just about my dinner I had in Madrid...). After our lunch, we all relaxed in the famous and extremely large Retiro park (think Central Park). We walked in a few feet (sorry, meters) and plopped ourselves down on a hill and rested up after our terrific walking adventure earlier. Some people actually slept, some were being productive, reading, writing. I had forgot my journal. For shame. I just sat and enjoyed the moment, trying not to think about how bad I had to pee and how there weren't any bathrooms around for miles. And taking photos. So as soon as I get those up I'll post them on Flickr and here. Retiro was fun but now it was time for some to head back to Alcalá. 

I head out with Maya and Armani to go shopping on Gran Vía, the ritzy, expensive street in Madrid. We didn't quite make it that far. First, we got lost, even with using a map. You see, the streets in Madrid and throughout most of Europe (and Boston as well, I'm told) don't make any sense. They didn't really have city planners back hundreds of years ago. So la Puerta del Sol is the center of the old city and all roads lead to it. It's all radial and not grid. Makes it very difficult to get anywhere. Plus there are no street signs, just engravings on the sides of buildings letting you know what street you're on. Basically, it's designed to get the traveler lost so they end up spending more money because they're hungry and thirsty and cranky because they can't find that damn Correos. So yes, it's very easy to get lost in Madrid, even with maps. However, knowing the language helps. I don't see how someone who doesn't speak Spanish could get by in Madrid. 

We at least made it to la Puerta del Sol where there were plenty of shops of which I believe led to Gran Vía. I'm convinced that if I had the money, I could buy my whole wardrobe at Sfera because it's completely awesome. Jackets, sweaters, shirts, pants, etc. They have it all and it actually looks good. After that I was determined to find a Correos (post office) and mail a package back to the States (guess which one of you will hopefully be receiving something in the mail in probably 2 weeks from now assuming it doesn't get lost...). In Spain, it's very easy to spot a Correos because they are bright yellow all over with very bright yellow signs sticking outside of the building saying "Correos." Yet I could not find a single one wherever our trek took us. I end up asking a police officer in the shopping district (no doubt looking out for those thieves that Cristina was mentioning so much about) and he told me that El Corte Inglés had one. What doesn't Corte Inglés have? 

I got to Corte Inglés, which has the be the worst place for a person with a headache because the whole place screws with your brain, it's a completely sensory overload. You seriously cannot think straight there, and that's exactly what they want. You can barely even find the exits. Seriously, if you visit Spain, go to El Corte Inglés and see if you don't develop brain cancer. I ran around asking various people where the Correos was, and I ended up in the parking garage standing in line for 15 minutes only to find out they didn't have the box I needed. However, the other Corte Inglés (muy cerca, so I was told) did have the right boxes. I spend another 20 minutes trying to locate this other Corte Inglés that for a moment I was sure didn't exist. Finally find it, go up to the 8th floor, find the tiny Correos desk, get everything ready...but realize to send the package would be pretty expensive. Not a problem, this was an important package. However, I only had 20€ in my pocket and they didn't accept credit cards. Where was the nearest cajero automatico I asked them...oh the basement? How fun. So I hop down to the basement then back up with money. We get everything set. I send the package...as if it will even arrive in the States.

A small el mundo es un pañuelo (it's a small world) moment: The clerk at the second Correos noticed my return address (IUIEN at Universidad de Alcalá). She was a secretary there just two years ago. Her name was Susana. I felt much better after talking to her (before I had been panicked, headached, and nearly drenched in sweat). A sigh of relief.

By this time only Monica and Kristine were left in Madrid, so I met up with them (after getting terribly lost again, only this time with dwindling minutes on my phone-- if someone was filming me from the Correos on to the Jamba Juice imitator where I met up with the girls, I imagine it would look a lot like Bourne Ultimatum). They were missing Korean food so we found a "restaurante coreano - barbacoa." The food will be detailed in another post but the time we had was tremendous. I love going out to eat, especially after a long and exhaustive day. Getting a bottle of wine and just relaxing, unwinding, letting the terrors and worries of earlier melt away over a good dinner with friends. Spain is still a very foreign country to me, but the friends I am making here are making the transition all the more easier. I'm finding a bit of comfort and warmth that I'd only usually find at home--here--4,160-some miles away, in Spain, among friends.

Y pasan los días

Beautiful thing about Spain is it's not weird to just up and head out to a bar after siesta. We spent most of the day in the Plaza again. This time, a bit productive. We did our homework for our grammar class for Monday. All of us together. I feel we're all starting to get more accustomed to each other, it's a good feeling that you're almost among friends as you'd be back at home. Makes it easier to cope with be estranged from you home country and friends.

Classes are boring, and tiresome. Nothing new. Can spilt nearly any Spanish word into syllables now though and all that fun stuff dealing with diphthongs. Get sick a bit at times, just thinking of the work that I have in front of me.

Food is improving, mostly by my own doing. Went to Carrefour today (a French owned Supermarket/Target type thing) and bought some French cheese. Looks and tastes a lot like Brie but isn't quite. Very creamy although the outside mold covering was bitter, of course. Brought it home to have my host mother try it. She seemed to like it, said we will be getting more of it then. Good news. Beats the manchego and cheddar we've had (I brought Wisconsin yellow cheddar which I detest). Win for me. Also had a bit of fish today at lunch, although only after I had nearly stuffed myself on bean soup and bread. Still, nice gesture. Breakfast wasn't too pleasant though. The milk has a habit of picking up the odor of everything else in the fridge. That includes manchego and chorizo. Then you heat it up in the microwave...it makes for one terrible tasting café con leche. Not a way to wake up in the morning.

I know it sounds a lot like I'm complaining but it's really not terrible here. I am enjoying it a lot, but I tend to feel the disagreeable and annoying stuff more interesting than the positive things. Nevertheless I will try to keep an even balance of "I can't believe this happened" and the "I love everything so much" crap.

Dinner in a bit. Still have some homework to do. It's so much harder to get work done here than in the States. There it's expected to finally get around to work because you're still at a big university with lots of resources and everyone else is very serious about doing work (usually). Not the same here. Everyone wants to be on vacation, which is sorta what this is like. No one is used to going to the library. The resources aren't as openly available and so then we end up sitting around and talking a lot and not really accomplishing anything. Today was an exception, to an extent. I got homework done for a Monday class but didn't touch the stuff I have due tomorrow. Not healthy. Then again, most things I'm doing aren't.

I fear my heart burn is coming back, and I'm not sure why. I thought the diet in Spain would cool down my heart problems but they seem to have worsened. Sat in class after a breakfast of galletas and that bad café con leche with the worst heart burn. Washed my hair this morning, seemed like more hair than usually came out. Fear I'm going bald, apparently because I don't get enough protein. Although beans should have a lot of protein, right? I would think so...but I still feel I'm severely lacking in my meat and dairy department. I miss the diet, to an extent, of the States. Even if I was eating poorly there I was getting sufficient protein and fat and sustenance. Here, I can't be so sure. Too much of anything, even bean soup, can be too much...

Still not dead. That's good.

New Photos

More on the Flickr page. Looks like the photos to the right are slowly being updated with new ones.

Who would have thought

Ugh, so second day of classes, and get this...they expect me to do work! And here I thought Spain was going to be a 9 month long vacation. Apparently I have to go to school, and on top of that, do homework. Just like back in the States! They are so advanced, I don't see any third world countries giving out reading assignments. Did you know they even have running water and electricity here? Who would have thought?

Let's keep track, starting now. Breakfast: microwaved, instant café con leche + dry galletas. Lunch: bean soup + pan. Let's see if that changes at all throughout the next 9 months. Although I've found myself dying for lentil soup for lunch nowadays (yes I count that as part of my bean soup regimen). I was walking home from class going "I really wish we have lentil soup and bread today instead of pinto bean soup and bread." Something is wrong. Lentil soup appears to be an acquired taste like beer or coffee. Curious as to what dinner is tonight...

Another day, another few hours sitting in the Plaza just charlaring. Bought books for classes (so if you see a 30€ charge from "Libería Diogenes" on the Visa mother and father it's for classes...). On Tuesday/Thursdays I have two literature classes. Introduction to literary analysis (the only course that counts as 224) and introduction to Spanish literature. So plenty of reading. Which is good, I suppose, since I like reading. But castellano antiguo (think Old English) is a chore to read. That, and anything Spanish poetry (they like to use those special words you don't learn in class). It will be a challenging, but rewarding, and worthwhile semester. At the end I may be exhausted (already am a bit) but the Spanish will be much, much better (¡Ojalá!).

Finished reading Homage to Catalonia by George Orwell today. Convinced me he's my favorite writer of the 20th century. Only read 1984, Animal Farm, and this, but his description of the horrors of fascism and just political bastards in general is so haunting and horrifying that I fear for the world we live in. Also makes me really wish I was around during the Spanish Civil War and World War II. I would like to think I'd be part of the POUM or International Column fighting Franco. Barcelona during this period sounds amazing yet frightening at the same time. When he first arrived in December of 1936, he describes a nearly fully socialist society where everyone is addressed in the informal "tu" form and there is no class. Everyone is happy and the economy actually functions. As he states, the closest the world might ever get to true socialism. Then he comes back in May when there was the infighting. The Communists and Socialists were both fighting against Franco but the Communists were gaining control of the Republican government (now headed out of Valencia). The Communist press (in and out of Spain) kept calling the POUM (the socialist party of which Orwell served in their militia) a secret Fascist group working for Franco. In May the Communist controlled Civil Guards seized the Telecomm station that was controlled by the Anarchists and for nearly a week it was the Communists versus the POUM and Anarchists (all three sides were AGAINST Franco) fighting amongst themselves, killing each other, while Franco and his troops were gaining strength on the fronts, where these men that were dying for no reason in Barcelona could have been used. The whole thing really turned out to be a mess and I can see why he ended up writing Animal Farm and 1984...most likely his time in Spain played a whole role in the writing of those books. Highly recommend picking up Homage to Catalonia if you want a gripping, non fiction, look at not only the Spanish Civil War but also the troubled world of politics...

Primer día de las clases

No mucho hoy. 

Went to classes. Más o menos bien. Grammar with Cristina (nuestra directora) looks to be a bit difficult at times, just due to the time and effort that needs to be put into it. Got this gigantic course booklet today. Only two classes on Mondays and Wednesdays. Phonetics after that. Seems to be pretty interesting but anything that get even close to science scares me. We were talking about parts of the mouth and throat I've never even thought about before. 

School supplies are extremely expensive here. I bought a pack of liquid ink pens (mis favoritos) and they were nearly 5€. All the notebooks are lined like graph paper. And yet Cristina wants our composiciones on blank paper because it's easier to write straight, according to her... Also, hand written. Because Word is often wrong, she says. Will help my handwritten Spanish though, so that's fun.

Afternoons without class (M/W I get out at 12:30) can be boring. Or awesome. Try sitting in the Plaza for 2 hours. That's entertaining. I feel as though last week no one was around during the day but since yesterday the whole of Alcalá has filled up with people everywhere at all times of the day. Not sure if anyone actually works here. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Heck, I want to move here and just sit around and do nothing all day but eat. 

I'm excited. After meal after meal of sopa de judeas (bean soup) looks like I'll be finally getting some really good Spanish food for dinner tonight. Tortilla española. Although mi mama said that it wasn't the type you'd find in bars, that it was her mother's recipe. A bit scared. 

Was sitting in la Plaza today and had one of those outer body experiences that are so fashionable. I tend to like to zoom out of my head and look at where I am at any given time like a satellite. Zoomed all the way out and saw the whole of the Iberian peninsula. Then I zoomed in on Madison. And Milwaukee. I wonder how all of YOU are doing right now. Clearly I'm keeping you all well informed (and I promise I'll get more photos soon). But I want to hear from you guys, what are your adventures? Have any recent photos you want to share? Would love to see them. So, yeah, kinda miss yall a bit.

Epicurean Diaries Vol. 2

More of the good stuff.

Club Habana Ron

El Perro Verde was out of 43 and didn't have Ronmiel, so I ordered a rum and Coke. The waiter asked me which kind of rum since they had a lot. All I needed to hear was Habana and I ordered it. Sure enough, he comes out with a fifth bottle of Club Habana Ron "El ron de Cuba" imported from, yep, Cuba. Our usual waiter is quite nice and makes the drinks half and half, so it was quite the strong mixture. The allure of it being banned in the States was all I needed to enjoy it. As a rum, it was good enough. Spiced. Nothing terribly special about it but definitely wasn't cheapo stuff. Sells for about 11€ in the stores (for reference 43, which I am in love with, sells for the same).

Coca Cola (normal)

Simple. It just tastes better here because of the pure sugar cane and not the crappy high fructose corn syrup. Coke is my life blood. You can get a 2 liter or so bottle in the store for 1€ but less than half a liter at McDonalds (where everything is supposed to be dirt cheap) costs 1.65€.

Hamburguesa (McDonalds)

From the "Euro Ahorro" menú (Save Euros, basically our dollar menu). 1€ for the worst hamburger I've ever taken a bite out of (which is all I had). Didn't even order it. Just wanted a Coke but the cashier ended up tacking on a hamburger too. Idiot. The "beef" patty is about 2mm thick (invisible in US units). Definitely not ham nor burger. Nor food.

Capricho Francés (McDonalds)

So I fell for the advertising on a bus stop for this French burger on ciabatta bread. Looked delicious (but doesn't it always?). And only 1.75€ (when a Big Mac or a McRoyal Deluxe is around 5€)! So of course I was hungry after class today and it was still two hours away from lunch. Capricho here I come. After waiting for my burger for a good 10 minutes (note: there were no customers there, like everything else in Spain, even the McDonalds is ungodly slow), I nearly swallowed mi capricho whole in three bites. Very small, the same tiny tiny patty from my euroburguesa but with some lettuce and "French" sauce on it. Not horrible taste but the burguesa pretty much ruined it. And the size. Damn Europeans.

Domingos a la Plaza de Cervantes

Sundays in Alcalá, and I would assume the rest of Spain, are very subdued. Every one is still recovering from that crazy night in Madrid (a few friends returned at 8am today from going to the gay discos). Shops are all closed. Calle Mayor becomes the hot spot for gypsy and Asian tourates to display their cheap goods to the few foolish tourists who actually come out to Alcalá, to see what I'm not exactly sure. The restaurants are open on the street with I'm sure jacked up prices for the Sunday. 

Went to McDonalds because Monica and Kristine wanted to use internet (our normal café was closed). Ordered a Coke. Received a Coke and a hamburger. A very tiny, thin, not-really-sure-this-is-actually-meat hamburger. That cost 1€. The Coke (half liter) was 1.65€. Started a composition due in class tomorrow but was far too bored with that. Wrote half. 

So what do people do on Sundays besides sleep in and go to mass (la misa)? La Plaza de Cervantes. Parents bring their children, old folks come to smoke, and americanos like my friends and myself come to people watch. The children dance and play around the statue of Miguel de Cervantes and trade toys and make us laugh. The parents just sit lazily in the shade not really paying attention to their kids. The old men just chain smoke their cigarettes. We point out the hilarious things the children are doing and talk in English (Heaven forbid parents could understand us making fun of their children).

Watched this one girl, Inez, go from child to child basically stealing their toys (and making more than a few children cry). New toy comes, she's off to commandeer that one. We sat doing this in the Plaza for three hours. Yes, I can easily adjust to the Spanish lifestyle. Talk about lazy Sunday. Next time bring a bottle of wine or something and sit there and enjoy the afternoon. Spain is shaping up to be a pretty awesome place.

Tiempo para la cena.

Epicurean Diaries Vol. 1

As mentioned before I had almendras de Alcalá today and I really need to start remembering to take photos of all my food. How touristy, I know. It's important though for me.

Mahou

Very, very, very, very shitty lighter beer made in Spain. It's like a poor man's Beast Ice or something. Horrible. Never drink it. To give you an idea of the quality, they sell pints of it at McDonald's for 1.20€. Yeah.

Mahou Negra

So I was at El Perro Verde last night asking for a dark beer "como Guiness. Un stout" (which is actually the word in Spanish for stout) and he said Mahou Dark and then mumbled some other stuff I didn't understand so I went with this beer. Came in a fancy dark bottle with black tin foil on it like the Ola Dubh we had at work did. Once I poured it (came with a special glass unlike the regular Mahou) I held it up to the light. It looked pretty dark. Wasn't very thick though nor too bitter like the dark beer I prefer. I didn't mind the taste at first (wasn't what I was looking for) but as it got warmer and I drank more the worse it got. By the last few drops I couldn't stand it anymore. Felt very bloated the rest of the night and didn't drink any more.

Vino Dulce

Not sure exactly what it was called but today at lunch I asked the waiter for vino oporto (Port wine) and they didn't have anything but he recommended a wine "muy dulce" (very sweet) so I ordered it. It had a very similar taste to Port. As Monica suggested it tasted like grapes, very sweet indeed. Dry as well. Towards the end though I started to get a bit tired of it. And tired physically (though I was tired earlier, so the wine only helped).

More on the foods and wines later, hopefully with pictures.

Jetlag Blues

I don't believe this is still jet lag. It can't be. More so I think I've fallen into the Spanish estilo de vida. I am always tired by siesta and can sleep for hours. But then I'm ready for bed by at least midnight. Not looking forward to getting up for school, though at worst it'll be done by 2:00pm each day. Maybe 5:00pm on Mondays. Fridays are off. 

Visited Casa Natal de Cervantes today. Nothing special. Not even his real birth house. Only lived in Alcalá for four years anyways. It's my birthday, of course, so more so than usual people are actually knowing it's my birthday and saying happy birthday. Feels nice I suppose. Went to the shopping mall today and got myself a new sweater and shirt thingy. More for autumn. Will have to post photos of my new wardrobe later. And more of Alcalá and folk here. Haven't had a chance to explore much. Planning on doing that tomorrow. With my good camera. Only seen three bums so far. One that came up to me twice within an hour while sitting en terraza.

Had almendras de Alcalá today. They're special candy coated almonds made from the nuns at some convent here in Alcalá. Very famous, or at least particular to Alcalá. Going to start doing a separate food and drink posts because there is just so much to cover. I love sitting en terraza for hours and talking and drinking.

Success!

Finally got internet...in my room. Monica lives just down the street and her host family has password protected internet. She gave me the key. I get near perfect signal. Awesome. No more buying shitty beer to let you all know that I'm still not dead yet.

Good times in Alcalá. After my last post we went to the same bar Samuel and myself visited yesterday. Same waiter working, very happy to serve us. Finally had a drink. 43 y Coke, mi favorito. Nice place, sat on terrace. Excited for when I come back, want to sit out in the beer garden at Silver Creek with some friends. That's basically what I'll be doing every day after lunch here. Forget siesta, it's time for the cafés. 

It's been, what? Four days and we're already talking trips. Of course there is the late September class trip to Asturias-Cantabria...then the middle October trip to Extremadura. Side trips that others want to take (save for the probably weekly trips to Madrid--half hour by train why not?) include Barcelona (a personal fav for me), Amsterdam (:darts eyes:)...and well..that's about it. We do have one four day weekend which will be advantageous. 

Going out tonight. Let word to a few folks here that my birthday may or may not be occurring tomorrow. Might be a celebration or dinner tomorrow night. We'll see. Not sure whether or not to tell my host family. It's always weird having that early birthday with school stuff. It's usually a new group of people and I don't want to go "So, it's my birthday, HONOR ME!" or anything like that. Of course I never like celebrations in my honor anyways, it's especially weird when it's new people around since they don't know me as well yet. That's a problem when I'm at a new location every year. And it's my 21, ¡qué horror! Sorry I'm not there in the States to party it up big time with you folks. Remember, it ain't a big deal here. Just had a drink an hour ago in the bar. Although, either have a drink for me tomorrow (those in the States) or have an EXTRA drink on your 21, and I'll buy you a round when I get back (or you buy me...I'll be straight up broke when I get back.....).

Rambling, as seems to be the usual with me. Well, at least I'll have plenty to remember this trip by when I look back at this blog.

First Photos!

Colegio de Malaga, originally uploaded by itsthinking.

Are up. Only my Flickr, which is linked to on the right, although for some reason my news photos aren't updating on the fun little side bar. Oh well. Click this one and it'll take you there as well.

Bean soup for lunch again today! Yay! ...

Tired constantly. Can't stress that enough. Had ten minutes before had to meet people...took a nap.

Went to the supermarket today. Almost died of happiness. Didn't help that it was before lunch and was starving. Everything looked AMAZING. Giant legs of pigs hanging there. Unpasturized milk. Coca Cola with CANE SUGAR in it. Delicious, having some right now actually at an internet café. CUARENTA Y TRES! Bottles of wine from 79 cents ($1.12). Almost cried. The other people in my group enjoy watching me anywhere there is food because I just go crazy. Even the simple bean soups here I don't mind. Usually. Eat a loaf of bread for every meal. Breakfast of instant coffee stirred into microwaved milk and galletas (cookies, which were very, very dry). Need to find a bocadillo joint.

Took a placement test today. Funny. Was from the University of Wisconsin...probably had taken it for retro placement. Easy enough. Going to be taking four courses. Decided not to take a university course second semester. I love Spain, but by May I know I'll be ready to come home and hang out with all of you guys, or at least the people that I miss (ha, love all you guys).

Learning a lot already here. Not just Spanish wise. The family life is completely different. Candela's grandchildren visit every day. Multiple times. Had lunch with them today. Was very quite for some reason. They like to play piano a lot, or at least Candela forces them too. Shower was interesting this morning. Forgot soap (bought some at the supermarket later). The showers here all have detachable heads. And sometimes don't have stands to put them in. So it's washing yourself one handed. End up writing in my journal often. Several pages a day (so they weren't a waste of money, mother). Often find myself throwing in Spanish words or wanting to write in Spanish. So I often do. Interesting to read, when I switch off and on mid sentence. Beginning to think in Spanish. Good news, I suppose. Will try to keep this in English, or at least half and half, so I don't forgot English.

Battery is dying, must go. Will try to get internet tonight. Friend gave me password to a signal I can get from my room. Hopefully it will work.

Hasta.

Realize photo is wider than post. Will fix that for future posts. Better to go to my Flickr anyways to see the photos at bigger sizes and such. Enjoy.

Wifi (pronounced WEE-FEE) troubles

Only got 12 minutes on my battery before it dies. Fast. Okay.

Met family today. Larger piso than I imagined. Very close to town center. Good lunch and dinner, if small. Has grandchildren whom I met today. Her son in Madrid visits every weekend. Her daughter in Alcalá visits much more. Just met her a few minutes ago.

Went to McDonalds in search of Wifi, Starbucks was closed. Bought a very shitty beer, Mahou, and the internet wouldn't even work on a Mac. Didn't even finish the beer. So now I'm at a internet café on Calle Mayor drinking another very bad beer (not as bad as Mahou though). At least this Wifi works.

So much to talk about, not much time.

Slept way too much today. Before lunch, after, before dinner. Very tired here. Had café with Samuel, fun times. Enjoying everything so far. Music in the Plaza Cervantes tonight. Haven't listened to my own music since the plane ride. Starting to miss the States a bit, or at least some people in it. The atmosphere here is wonderful, especially at night. More or less I feel very safe. I love strolling down the narrow corridors. Wonderful times. It can get a bit hot during the day, then again I'm a weakling when it comes to heat. Looking forward to winter, though I'm told it's very mild. Next to no snow.

First field trip is to Asturias. Exciting, up north. Oh wow, this is a horrible beer. I've had maybe a few ounces of my half liter. Want to meet more people. Have a feeling most Spaniards don't like us. Host mother said different, that plenty actually like Americans, at least more so than the French. Got to go, juice is running out. Once I have time I'll get back and type more.

Hasta luego (no one says adios here...)

Day Two

Second day of orientation. In the Hotel Campanile again. Almost 10 at night, ready to go to bed. Explored campus today, met some teachers, finally had some solid traditional Spanish meals. Lunch was melon y jamón serrano for the first plate then eggs and bacon (strange lunch, right?). All quite good. Dinner was a treat. Primer plato (first plate...I'm going to start introducing Spanish words to those who don't know) was paella. I think it was one of those frozen ones they heated up. Lukewarm at best. Didn't have quite the same taste as authentic paelle. Segundo plato was tortilla española. For those unaware--it's nothing like Mexican torillas. Think more omelet, or as Marisa (one of my fellow students) put it, tastes like scalloped potatoes. And finally for postre (dessert) I had my first café con leche in Spain. Decent. Still looking for a good café.

There is free WiFi everywhere in town. You can get it either at the McDonalds or the Starbucks that border the Plaza de Cervantes (the town's main square) or nearly anywhere else. Don't think it'll be a problem staying connected with everyone.

Heard about my host family today, which I'll be meeting tomorrow. The mother is Candela Esteban and the father is Jesús. Candela was born in 1937 and Jesús in 1931. They're a bit old, and have children living in Alcalá whom they visit often on the weekend. Candela teaches piano, I'm told there is one in the house. Also, they enjoy reading and cooking--good news for me, I'm dying for home-cooked Spanish meals. Haven't had a bocadillo yet save for the makeshift one I created from my serrano at lunch. Both born in Zamora, which is just west of Valladolid in Castilla y León. Looking forward to meeting them, hear they are very nice and Candela speaks perfect, yet slow Spanish, so I'll have an easier time understanding and learning from her. They live very near the Plaza Cervantes, which is basically the center of old Alcalá and very close to where I'll be studying. 

Everything is going well, just purchased a mobile phone today, a Movistar. Received calls, even from the States, are free..not going to post my number here though. If you really want to call me hit me up by email and I can send you the number.

Hope classes are going well for everyone back in the States. We start Monday here. End early December. Shorter semester for us, so--ha! I feel a bit like a freshman, lots of Spaniards are staring at us since we're in this group of 15 people wherever we go. Plus, we're Americans. Doesn't help. Two Spanish guys walked pasted today and (what I can only assume was sarcastically) said "¡Hola americanos!" Hoping what Matt told me about the Spaniards in Valladolid isn't true here in Alcalá--but I'm sure they don't enjoy a bunch of Americans invading their town every year like us in Madison don't enjoy (or at least make fun of) the freshman in town every year. For my third straight year out of high school I'm practically a froshie. Columbia, a real freshman, Madison a transfer, and now Alcalá, basically another transfer PLUS I'm American. ¿Qué divertido, no?

Enough for tonight. Although the café con leche I just had is keeping me up, I really should get some sleep--have almost worked off all that jet leg.

Llegado!

So here I am sitting in the Hotel Campanile in Alcalá de Henares, Spain!  Long flights but no trouble connecting in Madrid. Have had very little to eat in the past 24 hours or so. Looking forward to lunch in a bit, really want some tortilla española or jamón serrano. Definitely need coffee, going on only three hours of sleep during the plane ride. Meet a girl from Marquette who is studying in Madrid, was traveling with a large group of her classmates. Not too many people with CIEE in Alcalá. Only two other guys besides me. Was talking to this one girl, Rebeca, in the airport when we realized we were in the same group. She was born in France to an American mother and Spanish father (or the other way around) and lived the first ten years of her life in Spain. 

Don't move in with my family until Thursday. Lots of orientation stuff to go over the next few days. Mostly just want food and sleep right now, but it's only 1pm and we got the whole day ahead of us. Post more if I have time.

Saludos.